


There's a Point Where It Bends

by ricochet (melas_chole)



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Hurt, Just for the sake of the story, M/M, Memories, OC, One Shot, Post-Canon, taking place after the fall of No. 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melas_chole/pseuds/ricochet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There’s a point where it tips<br/>There’s a point where it breaks<br/>There’s a point where it bends<br/>And a point we just can’t take anymore” </p>
<p>It has been four years, ten months and nineteen days and Shion decides that he deserves to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Point Where It Bends

**Author's Note:**

> This popped up in my head while I was working on another, more demanding story.
> 
> I’m still not quite satisfied with it but I have been working on this long enough now and really need to get back to writing my current main story.  
> So, it might still be somewhat rough around the edged but here you go. 
> 
> \--
> 
> Also, I tried something new and put both direct as well as indirect thought in italics. Tell me, what you think about it.
> 
> \--
> 
> Ah, the lyrics inspiring the title are from "Time to Say Goodbye" by Casey Lee & Jeff Williams from the soundtrack of RWYB.

# There's a Point Where It Bends

 

How did Shion even end up here?

He felt uneasy as he screened the room, brimming with music and people dancing.  
Wondering whether he felt some glances upon himself, he bashfully returned his eyes to the drink in his hand.

He knew very well how he had ended up here.

It had been too long.

Shion's heart had been shattered the day, he had watched the back of the one he loved retreat into the horizon until he couldn't see him anymore.

This had been almost five years ago. Four years, ten months and nineteen days - he wouldn’t even try to fool himself into pretending he wasn't counting the days.

Clinging onto his hope, he had tried everything. He had thrown himself into his work to the verge of fatigue; had tried to fill every waking second with his efforts to ameliorate the situation in the former West Block; he had tried working out to make his mind and body forget; at one point he had even started taking stimulants to stay awake and burry himself in his work until he'd pass out from sheer exhaustion.

He had been a mess.

He went through all the stages – denial and isolation, even anger, bargaining and depression – but he had decided that it was enough. That he needed to accept the fact that the love of his life was gone. And that he needed to move on.  
The days and nights, the months and years had been far too long and painful and he decided, he deserved to live.

And so, one day after leaving his office he had dragged himself to this bar.

Shion took another deep sip from his drink and tried to relax.  
If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that the bartender gave him a reassuring smile as he wiped the counter some distance from him.  
Shion turned on his barstool and let his eyes wander over the dancing crowd.

\---

This wasn't half bad, Shion thought after ordering his second drink. He actually enjoyed the music, the darkness, the flaring lights and the feeling of people dancing, chatting, flirting all around him – all the while making sure to cautiously avoid any glances cast at him. Especially that of a particular man standing with a group of friends at the other end of the club.

No, this was actually nice.  
_Though probably a little hot_ , Shion thought and took off his navy cardigan and, folding it, placed it neatly on a vacant barstool next to him.

"Hey there!" Shion almost jumped at the smooth voice addressing him.

It was that man, who had been smiling at him with pearly teeth every so often for some time now. Always causing Shion to hurriedly avert his eyes.

Shion’s throat felt dry and his eyes involuntarily and somewhat panicky flashed to his rather empty glass on the counter.  
The other man must have noticed. "Can I buy you another drink?" he offered smiling, his teeth brilliant against his dark skin.  
While Shion still struggled with what to say, the lack of a refusal on his part apparently was enough for the man to signal to the bartender, who replied with a nod and proceeded to mix two drinks.  
Shion stared at the profile of the dark-skinned man, who might as well have noticed, judging from the sly smile forming on his lips.  
He looked at him until the bartender artfully placed two fresh glasses of the long-drink, he had been drinking, on the bar in front of them.

"Th-thank you!" Shion finally managed and was rewarded with a wide smile from the stranger.

"You're welcome!" He purred smoothly over the drink, he brought to his lips. Shion's eyes were fixated on the ice-cubes clanking against his brilliantly white teeth in the crystal glass.  
Grabbing his own glass, he took a sip that ended up being a gulp much to eager.

The man opposite him laughed gently, finding him quite adorable. "What's your name?"

"Shion."

"Shion. That’s a pretty name." He noted.

"Hi, Shion!" he lifted his steamy glass to him with a definite but measured hand, "I’m Darren."

Shion extended his own drink tentatively and Darren clinked their glasses.

\---

They had been chatting for a while and Shion found himself relaxing and actually enjoying Darren’s company and the attention he was paying him. Darren made him ease up and laugh about small anecdotes. _Quite an angelic laugh,_ Darren thought.  
And Shion apparently also said things that made Darren laugh.

Shion held the other man’s gaze and licked his lips as he took another sip of his drink, rather oblivious to how enticing his motions were. _About his fourth_ , he thought at the back of his mind, and couldn’t deny its intoxicating effects anymore. He didn’t mind it either.

“You’re very handsome!” Shion determined light-headedly.

The other man’s laughter rang out, quite taken aback by the whitehead’s direct and artless comment, but happily so.  
Darren wet his lips as he returned Shion’s gaze in a way that he couldn’t describe…but feel, “You are quite beautiful yourself!”

Shion blushed profusely and found himself laughing very flustered.  
Darren’s smooth smile widened very pleased with the reaction his words had evoked in the young, white-haired man.  
As if not to put him in a tight spot, he averted his eyes from Shion and let his gaze wander over the dancing crowd.

_Okay, so this man was chatting him up. But wasn’t he actually going along with it?_ Shion tried to get his bearings. Or was he?

“Would you like to dance?” Darren asked him suddenly.

“I don’t know,” Shion stumbled, suddenly insecure, “I only ever danced wi--” He bit his tongue as his mind was hit by images of silver eyes and flaming sunsets.

_No, you wont!_  
_Not today!_  
Defiance lit up in his eyes.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, “Yes, I’d like to dance.”

\---

Dancing, it had turned out, wasn’t that difficult at all.  
Although it was very different from the dancing he had known before. It was actually a lot easier. But that was probably also due to the fact that there was nobody throwing him off balance this much.

Somewhere along the line Shion had downed another drink, gotten very much into dancing to the electronic beats – so much that it almost felt like melting into one with the dancing crowd – and found himself reacting with little resistance when Darren’s hand clasped his waist.

Shion knew – from what he had witnessed around him – where this was going and had he been less inebriated, he might have been surprised at how little objection he had to this. He let himself be moved by the music and by Darren’s hands as their bodies closed in on each other. The first contact of their bodies was electrifying.  
And soon Shion was basking in the rave of the moment and an altogether… _closer_ way of dancing than he had ever known.

His mind was awash with the music and the light, with the bodies pulsing, with the faces smiling, closed eyes reveling, hands touching, lips kissing all around him… He felt light and floating in the sea of closely dancing people. As if there was no way he could drown.  
Darren’s strong arms would haul him in. And so he let himself be carried by this feeling.

_Wasn’t this better? To feel easy and uninhibited? to be rather certain about the interests of another than to pine and yearn and hope for?_

He had no idea what he was doing and yet he knew very well.  
And Shion pressed his swaying body into Darren’s as if on its own accord and harvested the sensations the contact send through his giddy body.  
This was so real and so much right here.  
This was so different from the painful lack, his body constantly experienced; the excruciating absence haunting his every moment of pleasure.

And when Darren’s dark had laced through Shion’s white locks and brought him closer, Shion opened his eyes. In the strobe light he found wanting eyes searching for consent. Their dark brown was ignited with the blaze of Shion’s crimson eyes and Shion’s lips were consumed in a fiery kiss.

\---

After Shion had suggested panting to “leave here…?”, it hadn’t taken Darren a second’s thought to seize the opportunity and this beautiful boy by the hand and – only passing the bar quickly for Shion to grab his cardigan – lead him out onto the nightly streets.

Darren didn’t live far from the club. Shion felt jittery and apprehensive as they made their way through the rather empty streets, the music still ringing in his ears. Halting occasionally for eager kisses and only once almost knocking over a flower pot, it didn’t take them long before they reached Darren’s apartment.

They had merely been through the door when Shion’s gaze practically asked the owner of the apartment to come at him.  
Darren pressed Shion against the wall, kissing him vigorously while Shion slipped Darren’s suspenders off his broad shoulders and freed him from the tight shirt accentuating his well trained upper body. Shion’s hands slid down Darren’s muscular chest and abdomen and, circling around his waist, dug into his built back as Darren’s fingers hastily opened the buttons of Shion’s white shirt.

Never letting go of Shion’s lips he gave the white boy a jolt and Shion wrapped his legs around his waist. Picking him up from the wall with his hands supporting Shion’s thighs, he carried him backwards into the bedroom.

Propping one knee onto the bed, Darren lowered them back down onto the mattress.  
He broke their kiss and looked down at the panting youth. Shion’s arms had slid from the back of Darren’s neck and, still tangled in the sleeves of his shirt, fell to the sides of his body, exposing his slim and well defined torso. His skin was pale against the crème sheets. His amazingly red eyes seemed to smolder. _He was truly amazing,_ Darren thought.

Darren leaned back down to kiss Shion’s collarbone. A slight moan escaped Shion’s throat and one of his arms reached up to hold onto Darren’s muscled shoulder, as the other’s hands wandered down Shion’s side. Darren let his lips graze over Shion’s body, causing the slender man to arch his back.

Shion let himself get lost in the sensations of his body. They made him feel alive. Alive for the first time in a very long time.

He closed his eyes.  
Relished what Darren’s hands and lips were doing to him.  
Darren’s touches were warm and strong like the firm grasp of his hand, not artfully gentle and fiercely torturous like…

_Shion felt slender fingers trace along his face._  
_He wanted to lean into their touch._  
_And loose himself completely. Just in that._

_Their caress was all Shion ever needed._

_He could feel their cool tips leave him burning in their wake._  
_Their illusive contact, rousing his whole being to hasten to their touch._

_Sliding across his jawline and trailing dangerously down his throat._

_If only they touched his body like this…_

And Shion felt his body fall.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Shion’s vision was blurry.  
He could see Darren looking at him but he could barely make out the expression clouding Darren’s furrowed face. _Why did he stop?_

The other man stared at him, his dark eyes full of concern. _What was it?_  
He looked utterly shocked and worried, as he beheld Shion’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Shion asked hesitantly.

“Shion!” Darren’s voice sounded incredulous and concerned, “You’re crying!”

_What?_ Shion’s hand reached up only to find his face wet with tears. _He was really crying!_

This was bad. He suddenly felt that he brought a disquieting situation upon himself.  
_Was Darren angry? He wouldn’t blame him for it. This wasn’t Darren’s fault and he shouldn’t have gone with him if he didn’t feel ready for it._

Darren backed up slowly and carefully, rather worried about the young man’s emotional reaction. _But reaction to what?_

“Did I do something wrong?”

The white-haired boy was unmoving. And gazing up at the man above him fearfully, he had no idea how forlorn he looked to Darren.

“I’m sorry!” Shion’s troubled voice was barely audible.

_It was his fault. He was so messed up. He really needed to get a grip on himself. He just had to…_ _‘Shoulder it!’,_ the words echoed in his head.

And tears streamed from Shion’s eyes with renewed force and he just barely managed to keep a sob from escaping his throat.

“Don’t be!” Darren hastened emphatically. His voice was tinted with shock over this apology but warm. He was gentle. And yet…

“Listen, I won’t do anything!” he added, holding his hands up as if to support his testimony.

“And I’m not angry or anything. If that’s what you think.” He wished Shion wouldn’t look at him like that.

_He was getting it all wrong._ Shion was desolate.  
“I’m…it’s…not you.” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He was still crying.

“Then, what is it?” Darren looked at him with searching eyes.  
Shion’s body started to tremble.

_What was wrong with him?_

_Nezumi surely wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it._  
_He was probably doing this all the time._  
_He had never failed to hint at his sexual prowess._  
_What reason had he to stop now?_

Shion’s felt like his chest was being crushed. He gasped for air.

_No, he had no reason!_

_As much as he had no reason to ever come back!_

Shion covered his eyes with his hands as a violent sob escaped his throat.

“You don’t have to tell me! It’s alright. Just don’t cry.”

Shion’s body was overtaken by tremors and he couldn’t hold the sobs in any longer.  
Forcing himself to remove his hand from his eyes, he struggled to speak. “I…can’t!” he realized apologetically. “I just can’t seem to stop crying!”  
The look on Shion’s face was excruciating.

Shion tried to hold Darren’s gaze but everything seemed to flood away with his tears. He wanted to tell him that he was truly sorry but all he could do was hurt.

He tried to close his eyes, tried blocking it all out but it only made things worse, baring him to painfully vivid memories – of Nezumi’s eyes, of his laughter and his seriousness, of his touch, his scent and his lips. Gasping for air, Shion could do nothing to shield himself from this but weep.

When he opened his eyes trough thick tears he saw a gravity in Darren’s furrowed brows and with one movement he was pulled into up into a firm embrace, “Then don’t!”  
And Shion broke into a passion of tears.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry I made Shion cry again in the end!
> 
> I promise, there’s a lot of stories in the making where he is far from passively suffering through his feelings – which I don’t even consider him doing in this or earlier fanfics – and where he does a lot of things but crying.
> 
> I'm actually far from perceiving Shion as week, helpless or passive. To me, he is a very persistent, strong and bold character, who takes matters in his own hands.
> 
> \--
> 
> Just in case you wondered: The words that echo in Shion’s head are Nezumi’s words from volume 7 of the novel. They are something Nezumi appears to be saying to Shion when he is overwhelmed with having killed someone but in fact are something he is telling himself as he is breaking down with guilt. 
> 
> \--
> 
> This story is a one shot but I might develop it into a series of one shots at one point, all independent but connected by the overarching theme of the eponymic stanza.


End file.
